


Seemingly Neverending

by bathandbodyworks



Series: Poison— Venom [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drug Use, Emotional Manipulation, Hurt No Comfort, Possessed, Venom in DC, hes still suffering, im sorry, non consensual drug use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-06 08:57:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17342423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bathandbodyworks/pseuds/bathandbodyworks
Summary: Dick inhales, stale air forcing its way up his nostrils, and he tries to think. It’s dark, and he cannot see, but he cansee.-Dick Grayson is haunted by a certain symbiote.





	Seemingly Neverending

**Author's Note:**

> a sequel you probably weren’t expecting.

Dick inhales, stale air forcing its way up his nostrils, and he tries to think. It’s dark, and he cannot see, but he can _see_. The darkness around him is intermingled with ocean waves dancing through the air like they belong there, as though it’s not insane to see a reflective blue-green substance twirl through the air as if it’s always been within reach. 

There are peacefully bright flashes of light in the corners of his vision forcing his mind and eyes inwards onto the amorphous shapes changing color from iridescent to monochrome in front of the ocean waves he’s trying to ignore. There are glittering, towering buildings around him that disappear the second he looks at them, and the marble fades into _depth_ the longer he tries to stare at it, and his eyes are forced back onto the amorphous shapes in front of him. 

The flashes of light seem suspiciously outlined in the shape of a skull, but it’s hard to focus on them when he can’t seem to turn his head towards any of the flashes, only towards the amorphous shapes that almost barely resemble a feather and maybe a stone.

His eyes are continually forced inwards and inwards by the bright flashes of light until he swears he’s going cross eyed and everything pulses outwards, once, then twice, then once again before collapsing into a puddle that seems to simultaneously be on the floor and hovering about it. 

Dick can see a dark mass crawling and slithering it’s way around the puddle like a spider clinging to life after he’s smashed it again, again, and again, and again and that’s what he thought he did with the one thing that keeps him up at night, night after night, after night. 

The tendrils of the black mass extend over and under the puddle and Dick feels himself back up while not gaining any backwards perspective. His heart is racing, and he can almost see his heart and it’s rapid beating in his chest, which seems to be painted blue and also entirely translucent, and he can make out his individual veins until his tired eyes start to look closer. 

Everything seems to be moving incredibly slowly and also impossibly fast and everything also seems to be swirly and upside down, like a portal in an 80’s sci fi film that he never had the attention span to watch. 

The tendrils of the black mass are suddenly inches or miles or whatever ‘very close to his face’ currently is and he feels it lick the side of his cheek before curling around a lock of his hair. 

He feels like he should be worried. 

It’s hard to. 

Everything he can see is blending in together, and he can barely tell the towering marble buildings from the ocean waves swaying in front of his eyes. 

The tendrils seem to be speaking from some far off distant place that he can’t name, and the black mass has no mouth but also seems to have a lot of words, and soon there’s whisperings of _**Venom**_ in his ear but he feels so high he can barely comprehend what coming down means, much less what the name that haunts his nightmares means. 

Everything shifts, the skull shaped-flashes blinding his eyes before the feather-shaped iridescent blob is twisting to the side before violently snapping into place at the same time the tendrils violently twist in and through his eyes. 

Dick hears as much he feels a scream, and there are little pops going off all around him, and Dick feels both eyes bleed as the tendril twists around, and around, and around his left eye, flicking off the muscle and tissue and organ bits until there’s only a clean socket left for it to admire. 

Dick looks down as the tendril crawls into his mouth, forcing his mouth open into a wordless scream that pales in comparison to his shrieks from before, and he frantically looks around as green faces with limpid pools of big eyes with no color float around in front of him, mocking him.

He leans forward, until suddenly he’s in one of the crystalline eyes and a wave of ocean pushes him into it and it’s like falling down a waterfall, no escape except for the end.

The end seems to go on forever, and he’s falling, but he’s flying, and he’s just a robin, just a bird, just a baby. 

His arms flail slowly and uselessly against the invisible force of gravity pulling him towards the inevitable end and escape and he’s moving but he’s not and wasn’t something in his mouth?

The tendril seems to make it’s triumphant return, it’s owner remembering it’s presence there, and it leaves through his mouth only to stab and hoist him up by his own middle, parading him around the endless abyss he’s still falling through, and Dick feels the side of his head slam into something, bang and bang, again and again and again, and there’s a whispering of _**Venom**_ before his world breaks off into segments and explodes into a white light that he can only faintly remember.

 

 

%%%

 

 

He wakes up on a floor, naked and sweaty, his heart still pounding as it rests against the cold metal underneath him.

He squeezes his bound hands together and stares off at the wall of the white cell he doesn’t know how to leave. Everything he sees is still speckled with dots of color he doesn’t want to remember. There’s a red smear of blood on the wall, and he absentmindedly lets it blur in his vision as he continues to stare in it’s direction.

His neck hurts, but he’s too tired and drugged to put pressure on it. He’s always tired now anyways. Moving is hard. Escaping seems next to impossible. 

He doesn’t know what they’re testing for. Are the drugs that give him the violent nightmares just a side effect of everything, or is it the purpose? 

Eventually, Dick lifts his hands to the side of his head before shakily lifting the front of his body up into a sitting position and pulling himself to the white wall behind him. He looks down at his now-bloody hands, despising himself for having had slammed his head hard enough to make himself bleed. 

Dick leans his head forward, unsurprised to feel a light trickle of blood on the back of his neck. Head wounds bleed a lot; he knows his injury will be gone soon enough. He has bigger things to sluggishly worry about.

He can faintly hear footsteps from the hallway outside his cell, and he does his best to look zoned out and look away from the scientists. If they think he’s too confused and his brain too muddled to comprehend what they’re saying, they’re more likely to talk freely about their plans. It’s the only reason he knows all of this has anything to do with Venom at all. It’s not like they see him as a threat. 

The scientists enter the room, presumably carrying the tasers and wearing the bullet-proof vests they always have around him, and he listens as the door beeps.

“God, I wonder what the hell he’s seeing to make him have that kind of reaction.”

“Can’t be pleasant. Probably a flashback to his time bonded with Subject V.” Someone’s tapping their fingers against something.

“That’s what Jameson was thinking.”

“Is that what you’re thinking as well?” 

“I’m thinking that we need to hurry this the hell along. It’s been weeks.” A beat.

“There’s a chance Grayson might be more susceptible to bonding with Subject V if he isn’t aware of the symbiote.”

“Possibly. Recreating Grayson’s mental state couldn’t hurt. Forgetting seems to be a piece of that.”

As if he could forget. It’s all he’s wanted in the weeks since their drugs began wracking his sleep with visions of terrors that begin harmlessly and slowly build until they make no sense and end with him being violently possessed and controlled.

It’s not a flashback though, as the scientists seem to think. Flashbacks depict things that happened. Flashbacks are real things he can’t change. Flashbacks are real things that people know how to deal with and comprehend and explain and fix. Flashbacks have logic and answers and solutions. Flashbacks happens in the real world for people who haven’t been taken over by a demonic alien hellbent on making them suffer to achieve their own twistedly evil end. 

This is worse. This is painfully unreal, and painfully something that no one could know how to deal with or comprehend or explain or, least of all, fix. There’s no logic or answers or solutions, because it’s all happening in a fake world with a person whose been taken over by a demonic alien hellbent on making them suffer to achieve their own twistedly evil end. 

But, Dick feels as if he has more questions that answers, now. Why do they have Venom? How did they even get it? Bruce destroyed it, he knows he did. His head hurts too much for him to think about it, and Dick grips his head and groans, bringing his knees to his chest as he squeezes his eyes closed. 

There’s a sigh. “Damn it. I told you he slammed his head too hard.”

“I’m not the one constantly increasing how much of the anabolics we’re giving him.”

“You’re also not the one in charge.” Another sigh. “Fuck it. Let’s get someone in here to do something about his injury. Subject V won’t bond again if he’s injured.”

“He’s probably almost vulnerable enough mentally for bonding with it. A shame the symbiote’s too weak to bond with anyone new.”

“It is a shame. We can check if Subject V’s ready for bonding when Grayson’s head wound heals. We’ll have to do something about preventing him from injuring himself again...”

“Got it. I’ll examine the vitals from his flashbacks.”

“We’re finally almost finished, Cardoni.”

“Finally.”

**Author's Note:**

> I haven’t written in legit months, and this is kind of sucky. sorry. oh well, hope you enjoyed anyways!!! feel free to leave a comment/kudos!!!


End file.
